


The Milestone Series: Year Seven

by Aggie2011



Series: Vantage Point Universe [16]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Family, Friendship, Gen, No Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 21:51:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aggie2011/pseuds/Aggie2011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Natasha in California babysitting a man named Tony Stark, Phil and Clint celebrate the seven years since Clint's recruitment with some good old fashioned quality time. *Vantage Point Universe*NO SLASH*Pre-Avengers*</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Milestone Series: Year Seven

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers or any of the characters affiliated with them. If I did, there would totally be a Hawkeye/Black Widow movie in the works.
> 
> Author's Note: While I embrace constructive criticism, remember this old saying if you choose to leave a review "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all"
> 
> Thanks to my awesome beta and great friend Kylen who has been so patient in helping me get things into words :) She is amazing and she is a constant inspiration - and mind reader :)
> 
> If you are new to my stuff, this is another installment in an increasingly long line of multi-chap fics and one-shots in a universe that I created for the Avengers. It revolves around Clint Barton and various events in his life.
> 
> Enjoy!

_...Everyday is a new beginning, and every sunset is merely the latest milestone on a voyage that never ends.  
 **Ronald Reagan**_

* * *

_The way you make me feel…You really turn me on…_

Clint looked up from where he was cleaning his twin Desert Eagles. He smirked. He looked to his bedside table – and frowned. He searched the immediate area around him on the floor. He put the pieces of his gun on the carpet and pushed himself up to his knees, pushing the blankets on his bed out of the way in search of the missing device.

_You knock me off my feet…my lonely days are gone_

He felt a ridiculous wave of triumph when he uncovered it from its place under his pillow. How it had gotten there – he wasn't sure. He smiled as Michael Jackson's "The Way You Make Me Feel" continued to play. He slid his finger across the screen and put it to his ear.

"Barton."

He knew it drove her crazy when he answered like he didn't know it was her even when she  _knew_  he'd at the very least seen the caller ID.

" _I_ _ **know**_ _you knew it was me – and I almost started thinking you were screening my call."_

Clint smiled and sat back down on the floor, resting his back against the bed.

"Now, Tasha, I only screen your calls when I'm with another woman."

He could almost  _hear_  her roll her eyes. He counted it as a credit to their relationship that his teasing didn't even give her pause – didn't raise any doubt.

" _What were you doing that had you so distracted?"_

"Getting rid of the other women so I didn't have to screen your call."

" _Wom_ _ **en**_ _?"_ she scoffed doubtfully.

"You don't think I could handle multiple women?"

" _Clint, you can barely handle me."_

Clint smirked – she couldn't have teed him up any better than that.

"Ah, but  _you_  are worth more than a dozen women – so really, I'd be stepping down my difficulty with just a few."

She paused. He could picture her scowling – trying to find a way around the compliment.

" _ **Only**_ _a dozen?"_

He laughed and heard her do the same on the other side of the line.

" _So what were you really doing?"_

"Cleaning my Desert Eagles. Then my phone went off and I couldn't find it."

" _Was it under your pillow?"_

"How did you  _know_  that?" He couldn't keep the awed laugh from escaping.

" _Because I_ _ **know**_ _you just toss it on your bed when you get to your room and you never make your bed…and somehow you manage to lose it under your pillow_ _ **all the time**_ _."_

Clint rolled his eyes. It wasn't like he did it  _all_  the time. He heard Natasha laugh.

" _So what do you guys have planned for tomorrow?"_

"Don't know." Clint shrugged even though she couldn't see him. "Phil hasn't told me anything yet."

Clint wasn't worried. He couldn't remember one time Phil had filled him in on plans to celebrate Clint's anniversary of joining SHIELD before the actual day of. But they always ended up finding a way to make the day special.

" _I'm sure he's got something planned – he always does."_

Clint smiled. He swore she could read his mind sometimes – almost as well as Phil could.

" _Is it weird? Knowing your living on a giant carrier that can take off in flight at a moment's notice?"_

"It's a little weird. I miss just being able to take off on my bike – being able to run into the city for my favorite pizza – it's an adjustment."

" _I'd rather be there_ _ **adjusting**_ _than dealing with Stark here – penthouse apartment or not."_

"Speaking of Stark – how was your day?"

He rested his head back against his mattress when she sighed deeply.

" _Well I found out we're going to Monaco in three days – Stark's got a car in the race there. Oh –_ _ **OH -**_ _,"_ he could picture you expression as she prepared to launch into full rant-mode, " _And you will not_ _ **believe**_ _what the man did today. There was fire involved._ _ **Fire,**_ _Clint."_

He smiled warmly as he listened to her relay the most recent escapades of Tony Stark. She'd gotten assigned to go undercover as his assistant three weeks ago. Frankly, Clint was surprised she hadn't killed the man yet. She sure had every reason in his opinion – at least based off what she'd told him in their nightly phone calls.

Well, they were more like ranting calls – she ranted, he just agreed with everything she said so the ranting didn't turn against him. He put her on speaker and went back to cleaning his guns. She'd talk herself out soon and they'd say goodnight. He'd go to sleep – earlier than he had in a while.

And tomorrow – tomorrow would be seven years.

* * *

"Do you have any idea what he's listening to?" Rachel Braxton asked as she helped Phil stretch his leg – carefully cooling down the muscles after their session.

Phil glanced over to where Clint was running on the treadmill, earbuds in place and occasionally mouthing words to whatever song he was listening to. He hadn't once interfered with Phil's physical therapy unless invited, but he'd done his morning run on the treadmill – in the same room as Phil and Rachel – for the past three months. Phil knew he was just showing his support in his own way.

He understood with extreme clarity now how frustrating it had been for Clint to take baby steps for so long. To battle pain and fatigue just to do simple exercises, all in an effort just to get back to normal. How Clint had coped so well in the end, Phil was certain had everything to do with his determination to recover. Phil liked to think his presence had helped in some way – as Clint's did now. When things had gotten tough or frustrating, having Clint's constant presence had been a comfort and a balm on his sometimes frayed nerves – even if the kid just ran in his own little world for the entire PT session.

He looked back to Rachel.

"He favors classic rock – so that's a safe bet."

"Jesus, when did he grow up?" She laughed lightly as she let Phil straighten out his leg and rest. "Seems like just yesterday I was coaching him through that shoulder injury."

Phil smiled sadly, not wanting to think back to the nearly disastrous fallout of Croatia. Had that really been four years ago? He glanced back at Clint. He must have sensed them watching him because he glanced at Phil with a questioning arch to his eyebrow. Phil just smiled warmly and Clint went back to looking out the window in front of him at the ocean.

Seven years.

Seven terribly long and painfully short years since that day in Vienna. Sometimes Phil wondered where the time had gone. Clint had been a kid when he found him. Eighteen years old with no hope for a future. Now he was twenty five – in a committed and serious relationship – and the best covert SHIELD agent in the network. The journey between those two points had been long and often times painful. Phil felt privileged every day that he'd gotten not only a front-row seat but an interactive pass to the show.

But looking back it had gone by so fast.

Phil was afraid he'd blink and another seven years would pass.

"Phil?"

Phil refocused on Rachel, who was watching him curiously.

"Sorry," he offered with an apologetic smile.

"You're fine. I was just telling you we're done for the day."

As if cued by her words, Clint turned off the treadmill and stepped to the floor, moving into stretches for his legs – never once looking in their direction.

"Thank you, Rachel." Phil stood and reached for his towel and water bottle.

"I don't need to see you again for another couple weeks – just keep doing your stretches and exercises, okay?"

Phil nodded and moved towards Clint. Clint looked up at he approached and pulled out his earbuds.

"Breakfast?"

Phil nodded.

"Lead the way."

"Later, Braxton," Clint tossed over his shoulder to Rachel.

"Be good, Barton."

Clint laughed as if the very idea were absurd.

* * *

"So what's the plan for the day?" Clint asked before spooning a large portion of his whole grain cereal into his mouth. He grimaced and looked around conspiratorially. Then he promptly produced two sugar packets from his pocket, quickly dumped the sugar into his cereal, and then hid the evidence back in his pocket.

Phil blinked.

"Did you just sneak sugar onto your cereal?"

Clint's eyes widened innocently.

"No."

Phil's eyebrow arched. Clint's arched in return.

"You gonna rat me out?"

"I will if you don't share."

Clint smirked and glanced around again. Two more sugar packets appeared in his hand and he slid them across the table.

"Why do you have sugar packets anyway?"

"Because it makes all this healthy taste better." Clint stirred the extra addition into his cereal and took another bite. "Well kind of better."

Phil shook his head in amusement and added sugar to his own cereal.

"So?" Clint asked around his next mouthful. "Today?"

"My gift to you is today and tomorrow off to do with as you please." Phil smirked a little. "I'm fairly certain there's a jet waiting to be assigned that could make the trip to California in record time."

Clint smiled. Phil  _would_ arrange it so he could go see Natasha on a day where they celebrated  _their_  meeting. He granted handler an affectionate shake of his head. Seeing Natasha would be nice, but there was only one way he was spending this day.

"Meet me in the hangar in twenty minutes." Clint stood even as he issued the order.

"What?" Phil's eyes widened in a mixture of confusion and surprise. "Why?"

"You'll find out, Mr. Nosy."

"Mr. N…" Phil trailed off in surprise, watching Clint nudge his chair back under the table with his foot.

"Twenty minutes, Phil."

And then Clint was gone, dumping his tray and striding out of the mess with his cell phone already pressed to his ear. Phil just sat for a moment, staring at where Clint had once been sitting.

_What the hell had just happened?_

* * *

Phil walked into the hangar bay nineteen minutes later to see Clint and Dan in what seemed to be a heated discussion at the ramp to one of the jets. Dan was gesturing a lot and Clint had his arms casually crossed across his chest – looking for all the world like he didn't give two shits about what Dan was saying.

Phil drew closer just as it seemed Dan ran out of steam on whatever rant he was on. Clint responded with what appeared to be a short concise sentence and a casual gesture of his hand. Phil watched curiously as Dan sighed in what looked like defeat.

"…promise to make sure he takes it easy," Clint was saying as Phil came within hearing distance.

"Fine."

Dan glanced at Phil as he approached.

"I don't see the rest of us getting the day off to celebrate the day we were recruited."

"Take it up with the Director." Phil smirked as he came to stand with Clint.

"Teacher's pets."

"You  _do_  realize I piss Fury off on a regular basis – I'm hardly a teacher's pet," Clint scoffed.

Dan rolled his eyes.

"You piss Fury off on a regular basis and are still around to talk about it."

Clint titled his head in acquiescence. Phil smiled – he supposed Dan  _did_  have a point there.

"All right," Dan sighed, "you two have fun and just come back in one piece."

Clint waved him off and trotted onto the jet.

"Do you know what he's got planned?" Phil asked his friend.

Dan raised his hands in defense.

"Are you kidding me? Like I'd risk his wrath by saying anything. You're on your own, Phil."

"I thought his attitude didn't scare you," Phil accused with a laugh.

"His  _attitude_  doesn't. His  _wrath_  – that's completely different." Dan clapped him on the shoulder and strode away.

Phil sighed and accepted that he would be in the dark for a while longer. He walked up the ramp and joined Clint in the jet. His agent was already going through the preflight checklist and getting them cleared to taxi out onto the flight deck.

"So where are we going?"

"Nu-uh, not telling."

Phil strapped into the co-pilot seat and resigned himself. He had never – and probably would never – be able to get Clint to tell him something when the archer had his mind set on keeping it secret.

In the end, it didn't take Phil long to figure it out on his own.

By the time the New York SHIELD base came into sight, Phil had been expecting it.

He  _hadn't_  been expecting to see none other than Todd Bryan waiting for them on the tarmac when the jet's ramp lowered. He  _really_  hadn't expected to see Clint's black Ducati and a larger tri-wheeled motorcycle-esque vehicle that he was fairly certain was called a "trike".

"What the hell?"

"Phil!" Todd greeted warmly, moving forward to shake his hand.

"Todd." Phil smiled and glanced over his shoulder at Clint who was powering down the jet. "Do  _you_  have any idea what the hell is going on?"

"I'm sworn to secrecy, my friend."

"Just tell me that  _that_ ," he pointed at the trike, "is not for me."

Todd smiled and looked over Phil's shoulder to Clint, who was trotting down the ramp.

"Of course it is, Phil!" Clint grinned. "I promised Dan I wouldn't stress your leg at all."

"I'm still not sure where the trike comes in."

Clint smirked widely.

"You're still not going to tell me, are you?"

Clint turned to Todd.

"Bryan, thanks for pulling this together."

"No problem, kid. How's life on the shiny new helicarrier?"

"Very …boat-like."

"Descriptive as always," Todd teased.

"You gonna be joining us anytime soon?" Clint asked as he ran his hand along the handlebars of his Ducati. How long had it been since he got on the road with his baby? Over three months now?

"Ah hell, kid, you know I've got too much shit to look after here."

Clint turned to look towards the base. He couldn't even tell the entire east wall to the training gym had been blown out and the roof left partly caved.

"How's all the construction going, anyway?"

"Slow." Todd sighed. "But it's going. They've gotten the outer wall and the part of the roof that were damaged re-built and are getting to work on the interior – and it's about damn time too. I've got two recruit classes on base and it's been a trick running training sessions when I don't have a training gym."

"So it'll be a while before you make it out to even visit, that's what you're saying," Clint smiled.

"When things calm down here I'll try to find some time, promise, kid."

Clint nodded and turned his attention to his motorcycle, leaning down to look over the engine.

"So," Todd looked Phil over carefully, "how are you doing?"

Phil shrugged.

"Leg's getting stronger and stronger. This," he pointed at the long scar above his right ear that was just starting to be covered by his hair, "I barely even feel anymore. I'm getting closer every day to feeling like my old self."

Todd nodded, looking at where Clint had shifted to rev up the trike for Phil.

"So, everything that went down three months ago. The attack, Barton and Romanoff's little off-books mission," he sighed and glanced at Phil, "is he in the clear now? No more of this shit with the Council?"

Phil sighed deeply. He sure as hell hoped so.

"He's never going to be in their good graces – too much has happened in the past seven years. But no more Budapest situations."

"So they aren't going to try and off him anymore – great."

Phil grimaced a little. Todd was nothing if not blunt. There was a measure of heat in the trainer's tone, reminiscent of how Phil knew he sounded when it came to Clint's safety. After everything that had happened, it was always nice to be reminded who had their backs.

"Phil!"

They both looked to Clint, who was in the midst of throwing his leg over his bike.

"Let's go!"

"I'd really rather not. I know you love these things, but I'm not a motorcycle person."

"Have you ever ridden one?" Clint challenged.

Phil sighed.

"They how the hell do you know if you like it? Besides," Clint smirked, "that's a  _trike_ , three wheels instead of two. Easier to drive and no stress on your leg."

"I really don't…"

"Jesus, nut up and shut up. You're coming. Get on the damn thing and let's go."

Phil made his most put-upon expression and walked to the trike.

"I already got it started for you. Brakes are here," Clint pointed, "clutch is here," he pointed again, "and gear shift," he pointed a final time, "now you have just have to steer."

"I'm absolutely certain there's more to it than that," Phil argued.

"Relax, Phil. The worst you'll do is stall yourself out. Now follow me."

"Where are we going?"

Clint smirked and revved his bike to life.

"See ya, Bryan," he tossed at Todd, who waved.

"Clint." Phil tried again.

"You two have fun!" Todd smiled and turned to walk back to the base.

"Todd?"

The man gave him a little wave but kept walking.

Clint toed up his kickstand and tossed Phil a grin before peeling out and speeding away towards the base exit. Phil sighed deeply, cursed, and put his very basic knowledge of how motorcycles worked to use. It took longer than he'd hoped, but he was headed after Clint a few moments later.

* * *

"Watching you park that thing," Clint shook his head, "was hilarious."

"You could have given me some basic instructions before just leaving me to fend for myself," Phil scolded as he took a bit from his slice of pizza.

Clint shrugged innocently.

"You're a smart guy – I knew you'd figure it out."

Phil rolled his eyes.

"So," he stated suddenly, "I'm guessing  _Joe's_  was the first stop of many – what's next?"

Clint smiled and just continued chewing.

"Come on, kid, I'm here, I'm playing along…cut me a break?"

"You'll find out."

"You are infuriatingly stubborn, do you know that?" Phil groused as he took another bite of his pizza – the affectionate grin on his face took any heat out of the words.

"I've been told as much – by you – many,  _many_  times."

Phil's grin turned into a smirk.

* * *

"I always wondered where you went when you took off for hours at a time," Phil commented as he climbed off his trike and went to sit with Clint in the grassy knoll looking over a large lake.

"Now you know."

Clint stretched out his legs and leaned back on his hands. Next to him, Phil did the same.

"Where are we anyway?"

"Rye Lake, east of Valhalla."

Phil nodded, suddenly having a mental map image of their location.

"You've made this trip before?" he asked curiously, tracking the movements of some children playing near the lake edge.

"Several times. It's about a five-hour circuit coming from Manhattan – great for when I want to get away for a while. Figured we could both use the escape."

Phil smiled slightly – Clint wasn't wrong about that. It had been a long three months. They sat in silence for a while, just soaking up the sun and just – _existing_. Phil shook his head slightly in bafflement. How could Clint – after seven years – still find ways to show Phil a part of himself he hadn't seen before? He'd always known Clint loved his Ducati – loved taking off for hours at a time. But this was the first time Phil had shared the experience with him. And he had to admit…he loved it.

It was relaxing and invigorating at the same time. The scenery was beautiful – so far at least – and the company was more than satisfactory. Just spending time with Clint – no PT, no missions, no Fury – hell, even no Natasha – was rare these days. Phil couldn't have asked for a better way to spend this day.

"There' re a lot of places we can stop on the loop – and I know a great place we can get dinner."

Phil smiled warmly. Of course he did.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes before Phil spoke again.

"We've had some troubling rumors come up about Stark and his arc reactor technology. I'm going to be heading to California in a few days to meet with him after he gets back from Monaco."

Clint nodded knowingly.

"I'm assuming you have an inside source that's already told you all about Stark." Phil smirked when Clint grinned in response.

"She nearly gives herself an aneurism ranting about him every night."

Phil nodded. He completely understood how she felt.

"Anyway – you've got some vacation days coming. There're no missions demanding your attention. I figure you can tag along if you feel so inclined – in an unofficial capacity."

Clint glanced at him and smirked slowly.

"Isn't that against protocol?"

Phil shrugged.

"I won't tell if you won't."

Clint smiled widely and climbed to his feet, offering Phil a hand up.

"Come on – we've got a few more hours ahead of us. I've got a lot of cool spots I think you'll appreciate."

Phil took Clint's proffered hand and allowed him to pull him up. They kept riding for several more hours – stopped for dinner at a quaint little place with amazing steak – and then continued on their way.

They parked at Putnam Lake just as the sun was starting to descend in the sky.

"So," Clint began as he swung his leg over his bike and glanced at Phi, "I've got something for you."

Phil's eyebrows arched in surprise.

"I thought the trip was the present."

"Well, the trip was kind of last second – I had a present for you already."

Phil smiled warmly.

"Well, what is it?"

Clint pulled something out of his pack that was strapped to the back of his motorcycle. To Phil it looked like a composition book-sized leather bound book.

"Don't go getting all sentimental – but I figured it was about time we documented."

Phil's eyebrow rose in confusion as he accepted the book. He flipped it open to the first page. It was titled very simply "Greatest Hits". Something in Phil's throat got tight as he flipped the page again.

* * *

_Greatest Hit #1_

_Vienna (aka when Phil kicked Clint's ass)_

_July 12, 2003_

_This was the day Phil saved Clint's life – and the stupid kid didn't even know it yet._

* * *

It was written in Clint's scrawling handwriting with a black Sharpie. Phil swallowed thickly and turned the page again.

* * *

_Greatest Hit #2_

  
_The Andes (aka_ _"Phil, don't you think it's about time you called me Clint?")_   


_December 15, 2003_

_This was the day Clint realized that Phil was the first person he could really trust in a long – long time._

* * *

Phil kept flipping, not realizing he'd never moved from his spot standing next to his trike – never noticing that Clint had shifted to read over his shoulder. Clint had documented every high point of the last seven years – and had found a way to turn what could have been horrible memories into something positive. Like Croatia – he documented it by calling it:

"The day Clint and Phil realized what it meant to be brothers."

Every now and then there would be a picture taped to the page – something they caught candidly or with a phone as the years went on and technology advanced. By the end – a page dedicated to Phil's recent time in physical therapy that bore a picture of Clint and Natasha helping Phil through an exercise and labeled "The day the Phil realized how much ass Clint and Natasha were willing to kick on his behalf." – Phil wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh, cry, or both.

He settled for carefully closing the book and reaching to grip Clint's shoulder.

"This is amazing – I love it."

Clint smiled warmly.

"Figure we need something in writing – or nobody will believe half our stories in a few years. But if you tell anyone about this – I'll kill you."

Phil laughed and nodded, leading the way to the grass by the lake so they could sit and relax for a bit. Clint followed more slowly, watching carefully for any signs that Phil's leg was bothering him.

He didn't see any.

It had taken him weeks to put that book together – a project prompted by having too much time on his hands while Phil had been laid up in the infirmary. It had been a close call this time – closer than it had ever been for Phil. And it had awakened a fear in Clint that he hadn't truly realized before. He'd always known he or Phil could get killed at any time – he'd come dangerously close himself several times.

But he'd never gotten as close to losing Phil as he had three months ago. He'd needed to process what he'd been feeling – to deal with the fear and the emotion that had bombarded him. So he'd started his project – reliving the good times  _and_  the bad. Building this book so they'd always remember.

He was glad he did – because it was tangible now. It was their history book.

* * *

**Epilogue – 1 week and 4 days later**

* * *

_Don't be afraid of the guy in shades – oh no..._

Clint sighed and dropped his forehead to Natasha's shoulder.

"Seriously?" she groaned as he kissed her shoulder and started to shift away. "You're gonna answer it?"

_It can't escape you – 'cus you got it made with the guy in shades – oh no_

He shifted his body off of hers and reached towards the bedside table and his phone, propping himself up on his elbows.

"It's Phil."

_I said: I wear my sunglasses at night._

"So?" she nearly growled. "Call him back  _later_."

"Tash, he knows I'm with you – he wouldn't have called if it wasn't an emergency."

It had better be an emergency. Phil had left for New Mexico this morning – off to investigate something about a hammer that was pulling a sword in the stone maneuver. He'd known exactly how Natasha and he were going to spend their time now that the fiasco with Stark was over and she was off baby-sitting duty. So the fact that Phil was calling – meant Clint was needed.

He knew he would pay for it later, but he answered the phone anyway. He could  _feel_  the burn of her glare as he slid his thumb across the screen and put it to his ear. He hissed in pain when she "accidentally" kicked him as she shifted away.

"Phil, this sure as hell better be important."

" _Am I interrupting something?"_

"You don't really want the answer to that – what's going on?"

" _I need you in New Mexico."_

Clint sighed and dropped his forehead down to the mattress briefly.

"When?" he sighed.

" _Next flight out – we've got a situation. I need someone who can get a job done without having to get close."_

"Does this have to do with that hammer?"

" _Does it really matter?"_

Clint sighed. Phil sounded stressed – very stressed.

"I'm on my way – I'll borrow a jet from the LA base."

" _Call me when you're inbound."_

Then Phil hung up. Clint tossed his phone back onto the nightstand and glanced cautiously at Natasha. He hadn't gotten glared at that fiercely in a while.

"You're leaving."

It wasn't a question. He nodded anyway. She sighed and deflated a little. He knew she understood – she would be pissed about it – but she understood.

"You could come?" Clint knew she really probably couldn't. She had too many things to tie up here with Stark. She gave him a weary glare.

"You know I can't."

Clint crept closer on the bed.

"You know – I can wait a while to leave. I'm really good at making up time in the air."

Natasha smirked a little and allowed him to pull her closer.

* * *

_**24 hours later…** _

* * *

"And then  _bam!_  – Hanson's laid out by this huge blonde guy that talks like he's from a Shakespearean play. Hanson's the last guy between Thor – I said his name was Thor right? – anyway – Hanson's the last guy and the dude just takes him down like it was nothing. I swear I was rooting for blondie by that point."

" _Wish I could have seen it,"_  Natasha smiled at him on the computer screen.

"It was beautiful, it really was. I almost started cheering him on right there."

" _Because he laid out Hanson?"_

"Hell – freaking – yes."

"Is that any way to talk about a fellow SHIELD operative?" Phil scolded as he walked into the room. "Natasha," he greeted with a smile.

" _Hey,"_  she smiled back and glanced at something off screen.  _"Look, I gotta go – Fury called me in for my debrief."_

"See you in a few days."

She waved and the screen went blank. Clint closed the laptop and turned to Phil with a smirk.

"You've been waiting seven years to see Hanson go down, haven't you?"

"Damned straight," Clint proclaimed firmly. Phil shook his head – unwilling to really try and sway Clint's enthusiasm on the point. He still remembered – all too clearly – walking into an anti-interrogation training session to see Clint nearly drowning at Hanson's hands.

"Was it everything you'd hoped it would be?"

"And so much more."

Phil laughed at the ridiculously content smile on Clint's face.

"Come on – I just let Thor leave and I want you on his trail – but keep your distance and stay out of sight. Call in anything suspicious and I'll have a team back you up. Do  _not_  engage this guy, understood?"

"You think there's more to Goldilocks than meets the eye?" Clint asked curiously. He'd seen the guy in action – knew there had to be something more going on there. His first thought had been steroids, but the look on Phil's face told him it was more – his handler was more concerned about this situation than he appeared.

"Just be careful and don't engage – we don't know what he's capable of – if he's on our side or someone else's."

"Who is this guy, Phil?"

Phil was cautious – he was always cautious when it came to Clint, but this was more than that. Clint could tell that this guy – Thor – being here had Phil concerned – almost worried. Clint suspicions were confirmed when Phil sighed deeply.

"That hammer – the one Thor tried to pick up and couldn't – the fact that he's running around with astrophysicists," Phil shook his head, "There's myth and legend – things recorded early in SHIELD's records that have never been confirmed – but that Thor's arrival – that hammer – have brought to light."

"What things?"

Phil shook his head again.

"Things about gods and magic – things you don't need to worry about as long as you keep your distance."

Clint nodded slowly and reached for his quiver. The relief in Phil's eyes at his cooperation was nearly palpable. He'd keep his distance – if for no other reason than to keep Phil happy. But his curiosity was peaked. Who was Thor? What did him being here mean? Why was SHIELD up in arms about it all?

A lot of questions – not a lot of answers.

Clint wondered if he'd ever feel like he had  _any_  answers when it came to SHIELD.

* * *

End of Year Seven

Just wanted to tie us into the actual movie-verse time line a little there :) Who else loved that Hanson was the last guy Thor took down? :D

Have a great day! And if you feel inclined to feed my addiction - I love comments:)


End file.
